


The Golden Boy

by Mcusekat



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mcusekat/pseuds/Mcusekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Golden Boy, they called him."</p><p>Ryan is hired to kidnap the Fake AH Crew's most expensive member. He's been hired to catch people before, but, for some reason, it's different this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, huge thank you to [Ashe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/asimplewalk/pseuds/asimplewalk) for beta-ing this!

 The Golden Boy, they called him.

 

 He was known for having an eye for wealth, with his signature golden gun and designer clothes and gold-framed glasses hanging off the front of his shirt or perched upon his nose.

 

  He was an art thief, and it was an extremely well paying job once you had a reputable enough reputation that buyers knew you weren't selling them a fake. Gavin Free, who’d started in Britain and made a name for himself there before migrating over sometime in 2005, was established in the criminal world with an extremely good reputation.

 

  His reputation increased exponentially when he joined the infamous Fake AH Crew, though. He was elevated from an art thief to crew member, feared and respected. It was said that the Fake AH Crew was untouchable, that the even the police couldn’t catch them.

 

  That's what the rumors said at least. Ryan found Gavin Free quite easy to catch. The kid barely even put up a fight once Ryan had the gun to his head.

 

  Ryan glanced at him in his rear view mirror. He was still sitting there silently, staring at the handcuffs around his wrists.

 

  “What's going to happen to me?” he asked, his voice quiet with fear. It was the first thing he’d said since Ryan shoved him into his back seat.

 

  “I'm getting paid to bring you to someone. Beyond that, I don't know,” Ryan said. He felt bad for the guy. He wasn't heartless, and him being quiet and not fighting made his job a bit harder, emotionally. But he was a professional, and his paycheck was in the seven digits for this one kid. Honestly, he should have been happier for the easy million he was making.

 

  “Who paid you?” he asked.

 

  Ryan shrugged. “He calls himself Peter Glasgow.”

 

  His face fell. “Bloody hell,” he cursed. There was a sudden desperate fear in his eyes that startled Ryan. “I have money. Anything he's offering you I can double it. Triple it!”

 

  Ryan sighed and locked his eyes on the road. Usually he just told them to fuck off, but he really did feel for the lad. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, and he was a lot different from the murderers, gang members, etc. he usually brought in.

 

  “I don't want your money. I'm sorry, but this is my job, and you're not the first guy to try to bribe me.”

 

  He looked at Ryan like he was going to shoot him himself. “Please?” he breathed with an underlying desperation that made Ryan feel like a real asshole.

 

  Ryan stayed quiet. He heard Gavin shuffling around in the back, heard him pull the door to no avail. The child locks were engaged.

 

  “Don't do anything stupid,” Ryan warned. The lad hunched defeatedly against the door and stared forward blankly, lifelessly. Ryan kept an eye on him in the mirror, but he somehow doubted the lad would try anything.

 

~

 

  “How much longer until we arrive?” he asked. It had been awhile since he last heard Gavin talk and his voice surprised him.

 

  “A couple hours,” Ryan said.

 

  He sighed, unhappy with the answer. It was a moment before he spoke again.

 

  “What's your name?”

 

  “Doesn't matter,” Ryan said quickly.

 

  “You're not much of a conversationalist, are you?”

 

  “Not particularly.”

 

  The man was quiet for a moment. “I'm Gavin.”

 

  Ryan looked to the mirror. He couldn't quite see him where he was sitting then, so he adjusted the mirror until he could. But, he was still resting harmlessly against the door. His gun, that famous gold gilded gun, was in Ryan’s belt. It wasn't as impressive up close; the gilding had worn off a bit from wear and tear, and it had a few scratches from being dropped or knocked away. It was still kind of impressive. Ryan had taken a moment to examine it before shoving into his waistline opposite his own.

 

  “Why did you decide to become a criminal?” Gavin asked.

 

  Ryan decided to humor him. The kid was probably going to be killed, it was the least he could do to talk with him.

 

  “The money was good.” Gavin looked surprised that he answered.

 

  “S’why I did it too.”

 

  The silence felt heavy. Ryan turned to look at him before sighing. “It's good money,” Ryan said, then frowned. He really wasn't a conversationalist, and he talked so little that lack of use of his voice made it rasp like gravel.

 

  Gavin smiled. “It is. Especially with my crew.” Gavin suddenly looked stricken. “Nothings going to happen to them, right? Does Peter have a hit out on them?”

 

  Ryan was especially surprised at that. He appeared to genuinely care about the rest of his crew. Ryan had brought in people from crews before and they never seemed to give a shit about them, pleading for their lives only.

 

  “No, they're fine, as far as I know. If he took out a hit on them it's not with me.”

 

  Gavin relaxed slightly at that. “Chist, Geoff's going to be broken up about this. And Michael… god, Michael….” he said quietly, barely audible to Ryan’s ears. He tried to hug himself but the chains stopped him, so he only leaned further into the door.

 

~

 

  “How do you know Glasgow?” Ryan asked, because Gavin’s silence was almost painful. He was hunched even further against the window, almost laying down, and he looked a bit like a sad puppy. He hated that he felt something at all for the lad. That would certainly muddy up his work.

 

  “He killed my father.”

 

  That wasn't quite what Ryan was expecting.

 

  “Your father was a Don, right?”

 

  Gavin nodded. He remembered a rumor that Gavin’s father was Don Free, one of the biggest mob bosses in Europe, until an unnamed hitman took him out in 2010. It had been quite a big deal, even thousands of miles away in Los Santos.

 

  “Worse part is, Peter was my father's friend before he killed him. He use to come to our family dinners and such, until someone offered him a bunch of money to kill him. I was there when it happened. Bastard was grinning when he pulled the trigger.” Gavin’s voice was bitter. His lip was curled in disgust and he was staring angrily at nothing.

 

  Glasgow wasn't in a crew. He was his own outfit, with a couple hired guards. He hadn't heard of the guy before he gave him the job, and Ryan hadn't thought much about where the guy came from or where he got his money. With this information, it made sense though. He must have fled England with probably tens of millions of dollars and settled in Los Santos, staying relatively unknown until now. Ryan shrugged it off. The details didn't matter as long as he got paid. He’d had bigger assholes hire him before, Glasgow was no different from the lot of them.

 

  Still, he couldn't help but feel a little animosity to the guy for what he’d done to Gavin.

 

~

 

  They passed through a town so Ryan had to take his mask off. He parked just outside of town and wiped the dark makeup from under his eyes. He watched Gavin from the mirror. He was still resting on the door, looking vacantly at his hands.

 

  “If I take you out of the cuffs will you do anything I might not like?” Ryan asked. Gavin shook his head. Ryan believed him, though he wasn't sure why. He hadn't caused any issue up until that point, but there was nothing to say he wouldn't without his cuffs. Ryan unlocked the cuffs and put them in his glove box. “Buckle up,” he said.

 

  “Is there any chance we can stop for food? I'd like to not die on an empty stomach and you did kind of interrupt me in the middle of lunch,” Gavin said. He was rubbing his free wrists absently and watching Ryan.  

 

  “You want me to buy you lunch?”

 

  “There's $200 cash in the wallet you took from me. I feel like that will more than make up the cost of McDonald's or something,” he said. “I mean, even prisoners get last meals.”

 

  Ryan considered this. He didn't seem to have ulterior motives other than he was hungry, and in all fairness he had interrupted his lunch.

 

  “Fine. We’ll go through the drive through,” Ryan said.

 

  He kept his eyes on Gavin the whole way through the drive through, but the lad sat silent and still the whole time. When he passed him his food he thanked him and ate it silently. Ryan was still unsure of his motives. He’d gotten him a hamburger, no silverware, and if Gavin could kill him with the straw of his drink he'd be impressed.

 

  The town was pleasant. It was a smaller community, the kind where everyone knew everyone, the kind Ryan grew up in. Two older woman chattered happily in front of an antique store while a man walked his dog with his daughter across the street. The pang of nostalgia, or perhaps want, was heavy in his stomach.

 

  “That was good, thanks,” Gavin said. He crumpled up his wrapper and put it in the take out bag. “What is this place?” He ducked a little to peer out the window.

 

  “Fairview,” Ryan said.

 

  Gavin scanned over it. “I couldn't imagine living at a place so small,” he said.

 

  “I grew up in a place like this,” Ryan said, though he wasn't sure why. “It's nice. Quiet.”

 

  Gavin’s gaze lingered on him, he could feel it. “Bet it was a bit of a shock when you moved to Los Santos then. A place so big and noisy.”

 

  “It was. I think I prefer Los Santos though. Small towns are nice until suddenly everyone knows everything about you.”

 

  “That's why you moved, isn't it?” Gavin was perceptive. Anyone else would have taken it as an offhand comment, but Gavin knew better.

 

  “Yeah.”

 

   Gavin looked like he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it.

 

  “Well, the past is the past, you know? Dwelling on something won't make it go away, just make you feel worse about it,” he said.

 

  Ryan ran his hand over his hair. “Yeah,” he said. After a moment he added “Thanks.”

 

~

 

  The air was heavy with promise of rain when they climbed out of the car. Gavin was back in cuffs, staring blankly down at the fallen leaves. They were at a little shack, worn from time and neglect. It was a ways away from the road, secluded, perfect for murder. Or torture.

 

  “It's not too late to take me back,” Gavin said. “I won't tell anyone what happened. I don't even know your name…”

 

  “Gavin,” Ryan warned.

 

  He swallowed. “Can you do me a favor, please? Just… tell Geoff what happened. I have his number here, use a burner phone and tell him what happened. Peter is good at hiding things. My body will never turn up again once he's done, and Geoff will look for me until the end of time if he doesn't know I'm-” his voice caught in his throat and he turned away and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Sorry. Have you got a piece of paper? I'll read it to you.”

 

  Ryan wrote Geoff’s number on the edge of his car manual and promised to Gavin that he’d tell him what happened, a promise he intended to keep. It was the least he could do.

 

  “Thanks,” he said.

 

  “Ryan.”

 

  Gavin looked up at him. “Ryan? That’s your name?”

 

  Ryan nodded. “Yeah.”

 

  Gavin scanned him for a moment. “I get why you're doing it. It's your job. I've killed before too. Suppose I'm no more special than all those people I've killed. It's a bit selfish of me to think otherwise. I mean, all things considered you've been quite lovely to me.”

 

  Ryan sighed, the pit in his stomach heavy. He wanted to save Gavin, he did, but he had a job to do. If word got out that he'd betrayed Glasgow he would never see another job again. Of course, Glasgow hadn't made himself known in the city, so if he played his cards right he could get away with it. But even that tiny chance of ruining his career, his life, worried him.

 

  He scolded himself mentally. Gavin was a criminal, just like the other hits he'd taken out. Hell, he probably had a worse criminal history than all of them. He was on the news every other week for some wild heist or gang fight he and the rest of the Fake AH Crew had pulled off, and none of them had gone without at least one civilian death. So what was stopping him from just handing Gavin over like the rest of the guys he turned in?

 

  Besides the fact that he actually cared about Gavin.

 

  The sound of wheels on gravel jarred Ryan from his thoughts. A white Adder pulled up, stopping beside Ryan’s car. “Give me your hands,” Ryan said quickly.

 

  Gavin almost refused but thought better of it and presented his chains. Ryan unlocked the cuffs and tossed them through the open window of his car. “Don't run,” he said, meeting Gavin’s eyes. Gavin started to reply but Peter Glasgow climbed out of the car and greeted them loudly.

 

  “Hello,” he said, grinning wolfishly. His eyes were on Gavin, and there was an evil sort of look in them. Last time Ryan had seen Peter he was in casual clothes; khakis and a polo. He was in a white suit this time, with gold detailing and a red tie. He wondered if Peter always dressed like a Bond villain or if he dressed up for the occasion. Either way it pissed Ryan off.  

  “And here he is, the guest of honor,” Peter said. He cupped Gavin’s chin and forced his head up to meet his gaze. “Mister Gavin Free. You look just like your father.” Gavin sneered. His face was blank, no emotion showing through the mask he'd made. His hands were shaking though, fisted at his side. “And the Vagabond. You've done well. If we're being honest, I wasn't expecting you to come back. Ramsey keeps his little bitch so well that no one I've sent after him has come back alive.”

 

  “Where's the cash?” he said, changing the subject immediately. He saw through his attempt to ruffle Gavin.

 

  “Of course,” Peter said. He nodded to his car and his guards moved to it. He kept his eyes on Glasgow while they went.

 

  “One million cash, just like you asked,” Glasgow said. He tossed the duffel to Ryan who caught it with ease. Ryan unzipped it and started leafing through the bills.

 

  “What's wrong, Vagabond, don't trust me?” Glasgow said.

 

  “Your record isn't exactly clean,” Ryan said flatly.

 

  Glasgow looked a little surprised at that. The momentary lapse in his cocky behavior was more rewarding than the money. One million cash, as promised. Ryan took a deep breath before zipping up the duffel and moving back to where he stood beside Gavin.

 

  “Here you go,” Ryan said. He placed his hand on Gavin’s back and urged him forward. Gavin took a hesitant step. He was trying to hide the broken look on his face, and perhaps it was working with Glasgow, but Ryan had seen him smile, seen him laugh, and he could see the stark difference between him then and him now. Ryan sighed. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute and every bone in his body was tired. The woods around them were quiet. Even the freeway was too far away to hear from where they were. In the moment of dead silence between when he moved Gavin forward and Peter grabbed his arm Ryan’s mind cleared.

 

  Peter was so wrapped up in Gavin that he didn't notice Ryan draw his guns until both guards were dead beside him.

 

  Peter reeled back in surprise, clumsily drawing his own weapon. “Wh-what the fuck do you think you're doing?” Peter said, pointing his own weapon at Ryan. Retirement hadn't done Glasgow a favor and Ryan was able to knock the gun from Glasgow’s hand with ease.

 

  Ryan gritted his teeth. “I did my job,” Ryan said. “You had Gavin. Now I'm just doing a friend a favor.”

 

  He tossed Gavin his golden gun and the lad caught it with ease. The look on his face was unreadable, but he was confident when he stepped forward. The sound of Gavin’s gun echoed off the trees. Ryan watched Peter fall into the dust with a pleased feeling. He let his eyes linger for a moment on the body crumpled in the dirt, blood soaking into the dust around him.

 

  “Ryan,” Gavin said. Ryan felt an odd feeling at the sound of Gavin's voice saying his name. “You saved me.” He was staring at Ryan with a shocked expression, like he was still unsure of everything that had happened. Ryan was too, but there was zero regret. “Thank you.”

 

  Ryan shrugged, unsure of what to say. “You saved yourself. You killed him”

 

  “I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you. If you want money I-”

 

  Ryan shook his head. “Gav, don't worry about it,” Ryan said.

 

  Gavin smiled, a sight that took Ryan’s breath away. It was the first time he’d seen Gavin smile so genuinely, he realised. “How about I repay you with dinner tomorrow night.”

 

  As soon as the words came out of Gavin's mouth he blushed and cast his gaze to the ground. Ryan smiled.

  
  “Yeah, sure, of course,” Ryan said, struggling to contain the smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on Tumblr @[Mcusekat ](http://desertsongs.co.vu). And don't forget to leave kudos and comments! Thank you!


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